Sick Day
by Innerhottie
Summary: Just a day in their lives. Xander pays Willow a visit while she’s sick.


Title: Sick Day

Author: Innerhottie

Disclaimer: Not mine

Betas: How many betas does it take to make a decent fic? Many. And I would like to thank vegmb, lillianmorgan, Desotohia873 and especially fishsanwitt for taking a looksee at this. If there's still mistakes, they're mine.

They came. They beta'd. They were nice about it.

Mucho appreciated.

Summary: Just a day in their lives. Xander pays Willow a visit while she's sick.

Author's Note: This is my first fic. :hangs head: Please forgive me.

The stairs seemed to go on forever.

Or, at least it felt that way. Xander stared at Mrs. Rosenberg's moving lips as she went on a tiny tirade of the deconstruction of the feminine archetype in the 21st century. He could definitely see his best friend in this woman, although he would never admit it to Willow. He could practically see her mother's mind at work, like a hamster on a wheel. Kinda like Willow when she got on a subject and wouldn't let go until it was bloody and maimed.

He nodded. He knew the drill and had it down to a science. One head nod for every two statements he didn't understand. With Mrs. Rosenberg, he often resembled a bobble-head dog. All adults were the same. You really didn't have to comprehend, you just had to agree and you could get it over with quickly. In his house, that lesson had come quick and in a hurry. Shut your mouth and nod your head.

Good boy.

Once he'd placed his foot on the top step, he let out a sigh of relief. He listened as Mrs. R pulled out her chair at the desk, with a scrape against the wooden floor, and then there was quiet again. He was just glad she didn't ask why he wasn't in school this late in the day.

At Willow's bedroom door, he gave three knocks. Two short and one long. Their code for years. Actually, it was Jesse's and his knock, but once the little redhead from down the street had started to hang with them, she had become an honorary member of whatever club they'd started. It had usually included bugs, which she had tolerated from afar.

When she'd wanted to branch out and start her own _"We Hate Cordelia Chase"_ club, they knew that they had a genius on their hands. Who could not love that? They had both joined willingly.

Xander was very proud of his Treasurer's status. Jesse was the Director of something they never figured out and, of course, she was President. It was her club and who was going to have a problem with the one who brought the best snacks to the meetings?

Canned laughter from the TV played low in the room and brought Xander back into the moment. He heard her sneeze and then suck air through her mouth with a high-pitched sound. He smiled. He knew a Willow wheeze from a mile off. He gave another knock, this time a regular one. "Willow, it's me, Xander, your lifelong buddy."

"Xander, go away, please."

She sounded tired and was probably green-behind-the-gills sick, but he figured this visit would be of the good.

So he persisted. Persistence he had in spades when he wanted. She couldn't say "no". Where would he go? School, he just escaped, so that wasn't an option. And home? Well, that way lies madness. "Willow, open up. I brought your favorite snack." He pulled out his gift and pressed his ear to the door. When it opened a minute later, he smiled at his friend, in too-big white pajamas with dancing bears, green socks and huge sunglasses. He shook two cellophane-covered yellow snack cakes enticingly.

Willow's lips turned into a tight upside down "u" and she left him standing in the doorway. "Twinkies are _your_ favorite snack, Xander." She jumped back into her bed, which was littered with tissue boxes and antibiotics, and snuggled deep under the covers.

Xander stuck his head in first, giving the room a cursory 'is the coast clear' look before entering, not sure what changes had been made since Willow's self-imposed exile from the world two days previous. "Ah, but the magic of the Twinkie got you to open the door." He placed the cakes back into his bag, threw it alongside the bed and walked around. The drawn blinds darkened the room from the midday sun. It had the faint, warm, moist smell of menthol. Or maybe peppermint. "And what's up with the shades, Jackie O? This room doesn't get ithat/i much sunlight."

"I'm surprised my mom let you up," Willow sniffed, giving her nose a quick wipe.

"Yeah, she said I could stay as long as I kept one foot on the floor at all times." He peered closer at a picture of Willow, Buffy and himself, checking his teeth in the reflection of the glass.

"And if you didn't?"

"Then it's teenage matrimonial bliss, Mrs. Harris."

Xander looked down and suddenly spied his baseball from years ago. He gripped it tightly in his hand. His first two fingers and thumb curled around the familiar raised seam of red thread. He then rolled the ball around slowly, getting reacquainted with his old throwing position. He tossed it towards the ceiling, his mouth puckered at a memory. The ball was from his first and last homerun. A baseball career cut short when he broke his collarbone, sliding into second base. "Couldn't you break your friggin' arm at home plate for chrissakes?" his father had yelled, in front of the stands of people. Even the coaches had known not to interfere when Tony Harris was on a roll. Xander had had to fend for himself.

A baseball casualty at ten.

So what if the bases had been loaded and he'd helped them win the game? It hadn't mattered to his father. But it had mattered to Willow. That ball was outta there and it had taken an hour in high grass on edge of the park for her to find it, according to Jesse, when they'd shown up in his bedroom, the next day. She had the ball in her small hands and insisted he autograph it.

His two best friends had sat on his bed, reliving the moment and checking out the various signatures on his cast. He remembered Willow's smile. And the feeling of someone thinking you were special and wanting you around. Willow had called him her hero that day. He didn't think he'd been anyone's, since. That particular memory made his heart warm.

A dry hacking cough interrupted his thoughts. "Xander, what are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be in 5th period now?" Willow took a drink of water, from the glass that was next to her on the nightstand and cleared her throat.

He leaned against the back of her desk chair and crossed his legs at the ankles. He continued to throw the baseball into the air, catching it first with one hand and then the other. "School's not the same without you. I mean, I icould/i play another round of _'Kick the Cordy',_ but then what would I do for the rest of the week? Mind you..." He caught the ball with a firm smack, then pointed at her. "It's about prolonging the pleasure."

"Was Buffy at school?" Willow asked.

"Yeah, but she couldn't come with."

"New evil?"

"No. Old. Giles. Slayer homework or something. She said she'll come around after school."

Xander set the ball down, toed off his shoes and dove for the bed, landing next to Willow. She yelped, trying to steady herself and holding onto her sunglasses. "Don't get too close. I'm contagious."

He heaved himself up to his knees, rolled his shoulders back and pushed out his chest. "I am Impervious Man! All viruses fall before me." He then returned to un-Impervious Man and dropped back onto the bed. "Besides, I got a flu shot a while back."

Willow sat up. "You too?" She threw up her hands. "You know, I've been studying up on witchcraft. I can balance a pencil in the air." She thought better of it. "Well, almost. But I've...I've fought demons."

"Helped save the world once," Xander added matter-of-fact, lying on his side, on his elbow.

"Exactly. So, how could I have forgotten something stupid like taking a flu shot?" She flopped back against her pillow, disgusted with herself.

"Willow, between demon research and school, you're just a little overworked," Xander reasoned. "Besides, it was going to take a little illness to help you embrace the infinite goodness of downtime."

"And I look awful." She pouted, making her look as though she was a little girl with huge binoculars.

He tried to draw a smile from her, his chin resting in the palm of his hand. "You? Look awful? Never happen. Not in this dimension."

Ignoring his obvious attempt to make her feel better, she nodded her head and pushed the sunglasses up further on her nose. "Oh, it can happen."

"Let me be the judge of that." He pulled himself up and went for the shades.

She pulled back out of reach, holding onto the frames as if her life depended on it. "No."

He leaned in, throwing an arm on the other side of her. His body, too heavy for her to budge, pinned her down to the bed. Squeezing her eyes shut, she held her hands against his chest to push him off. When she realized she couldn't, she covered her face with her hands. He looked down expectantly, waiting for her to take off the shades.

"How bad can it be?" he asked, forgetting what famous last words those could be.

"Bad. Badder than bad. Insurmountable badness," she said, her voice muffled by her fingers. Her stuffed nose caused her breathing to sound vaguely like Darth Vader.

Xander shook his head. "May I remind you that my last girlfriend was a mummy. Once you've gone shriveled up and puny, everything else...not so ugly."

"Well, you won't think that when you see..." Willow gave up, sighed loudly and raised the sunglasses. With a sudden panic, she turned her face away and wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand, then covered them again.

"Willow," he said, seriously. She peeked over her fingers. He could see that her eyes, a pretty shade of soft emerald green, were now surrounded by angry, bloodshot, red. Almost the same color as her hair. "It makes you look..." he searched for words.

"Bunny-like?" Willow asked, her voice still muffled, but soft and hopeful.

"More 'pink-eyed demon'-like," Xander joked and suddenly wished he hadn't as she pushed him off and once again dove under the covers, pulling them over her face with a wail.

"I'm kidding. Willow..." He began to pull at the massive amount of blankets as she duly held on. "Willow...really. You don't look that bad."

"You said I looked like a demon!"

"A pink-eyed..." He peeled one blanket back. "Very cute..." He pulled back two more. How could she move under that mass of bed stuff? He tugged at the final lavender, ruffled sheet in her small, clutching hands and looked into the eyes of his best friend. He smiled. "Very sick Willow demon."

"You...you shouldn't see me like this." He always loved when she wrinkled her brow and got the serious Willow face, a little less intense than her 'resolve' face. And he didn't know when she'd started to care how she looked around him. She was the same as she always was.

"Willow, I've seen worse."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh...thanks for reminding me."

Xander started again. "I mean, this is not the worst. And yeah, you might be a little warm and sticky, you got pink-eye and your eyes might be permanently glued together by scummy viral glue, but I'll love you just the same because you're my Willow."

She looked up. "Okay." With a weak smile, she said, "I'll give you a six on the soothing and maybe an eight on the niceness."

"How can I get a ten?"

She nodded towards the edge of the bed. "Share a Twinkie with me?"

"But you wouldn't enjoy it. You need actual taste buds."

Willow laughed. "I have taste buds, Mister. They're just impaired."

"You mean they're hopping around with crutches?" Xander reached around the side of the bed, grabbed his book bag and pulled out a cake, glad to make her laugh. He unwrapped it and broke it in half, passing it over to Willow.

As the yellow sponge cake weaved and bobbled before her eyes, he watched her turn green. She gave a weak smile. "Uh, maybe I'll take a rain check."

Xander ate both his half and Willow's. "I'll get you some soup," he said, through a mouthful of cake as he walked towards the door.

"Xander?" Willow called to him weakly.

He opened the door, turned and looked back at her. She seemed to have shrunk in the seconds it had taken him to walk towards the hall. He suddenly remembered what she'd looked like when she was six. "Yeah?"

"Thank--" Willow started.

"Is everything okay up there, Willow?" Mrs. Rosenberg called from the bottom of the stairs, on her way up.

"Fine, Mom." She then whispered. "Head her off at the pass."

He gave her a quick smile and disappeared into the hall.

Twenty minutes later, Xander pushed the door open with his foot, a tray balanced in one hand, four cans of soda dangling from his fingertips of his other hand and a rolled-up bag of cheesy chips in his teeth.

He dropped the soda and the bag on the bed and passed the tray to Willow, who met him half way across the bed. "Soup's on."

"I think you missed your calling. Waiter Extraordinaire."

Sitting on top of the covers next to Willow again, he popped a soda open, sucking on the top before it sprayed the bed. He opened the chips. Over loud crunching, he said, "Hey, you're spoiling all the fun in spending years of being fired from a string of sub-paying jobs that might require uniforms, name badges and possibly going postal. So, what of entertainment?"

"Well, I finished the history assignment due in two weeks and I didn't get a chance to get to the chemistry because..." she explained.

"Well, you definitely put the "p" in party," Xander interrupted. "Look Will, if I'm gonna make a mockery of the educational system in order to nurse you back to health, you need to make it worth my month of detention. Luckily for you and with several hundred dollars in late fees, I brought you two of the greatest movies of all time." Xander held them up.

"_The Terminator_ and _Raiders of the Lost Ark_? You got those for me?" She looked doubtful.

"Okay...okay. I also got you a classic." He pulled out another tape. "Something in the Brat Pack genre." He held up _The Breakfast Club._

Willow grinned.

As the ending credits rolled, Xander's hand flailed at the TV in disgust. "Of course, the popular girl falls for the bad boy. Things are great until he breaks her heart. Leaving her a shell of a Slayer."

Willow raised her brows. "A Slayer?"

"Uh," Xander stuttered. Mind blank. His eyes, deer-in-headlights wide. When in doubt? Avoid. He leapt up from the bed and popped the tape out of the machine. "Why do you and Buff like this movie again?" He looked back at her.

A quick quirk of her lip told him she let him get away with the slip. "Because once they get over their differences, they find out they're a lot alike."

He imagined the tender moment of a truce with Larry. That was after he stuffed Xander's white flag down his throat. He nodded back at her in mock agreement. "And that's SO going to happen in real life. Dream on, little trooper." He pulled the next tape out of its cover, shoved it into the machine and dove for the bed again.

After a pause, Willow continued the conversation as though it hadn't ended. "It can happen."

_Won't let go of a subject until it's bloody and maimed._

He gave her a patronizing pat on her leg. "Little Trooper".

After a small knock at the bedroom door, Buffy walked in.

"Hey, Buffy." Willow sat up and smiled. Xander, now wearing Willow's sunglasses, waved.

"Hey, Will." Buffy looked at Xander. "Elton."

Xander threw his arm up, the bag of chips dangling from his fingertips. Buffy dug in and grabbed a couple. "I guess your mom is getting lax with the 'no boys in your room' rule."

Willow shook her head. "Oh, no. Visitation has been every hour on the hour. She's better than a train."

"Yeah, I think she's due right about..." Xander held a finger up, then pointed to the door. "Now." Mrs. Rosenberg opened the door as Xander slid to the side of the bed and dropped a foot on the floor.

"So, how's it going up here? It's so nice of you two to come and visit Willow while she's sick. Is there anything you want, Bunny?"

Buffy smiled tightly. "No thanks, Mrs. Rosenberg. I'm fine." As the door closed, she turned around and mouthed to Willow, _"Bunny?"_

Willow shrugged.

Buffy nibbled at the chips in the palm of her hand. "So, how's it going? You feeling any better?" She looked at Willow with concern.

"Oh, I'm better. Xander and I were just watching movies."

Xander lifted the sunglasses. "Yeah, you just missed John Hughes' ode to things that DON'T happen in high school." He dropped them back down on his nose.

Buffy picked up the box. "Ooh, _The Breakfast Club"_

Willow grabbed the last chip out of Buffy's hand. "How was school?"

Buffy wiped her hands together, cheesy dust sprinkling the bed. She grabbed a warm soda and opened it. "Trés boring. Why don't they just call it jail and get it over with? And Giles is being totally uber-Watcher. He's got me on a strict diet of extra patrol and workouts."

"Makes Slayer big and strong for shiny, fanged teeth and bones." Xander popped another chip into his mouth, pointing the remote to the TV's volume.

"I mean, I know with Bleachboy and Insano Girl around, we have to be on constant 'ready' mode, but even prisoners get time out to walk the yard for those fun shankings and prison fights."

"Well, Buffy you got to stay on your toes," Xander pointed out. "The Slayer's gig is not all fun and games."

They both looked at him, eyes narrowed. "Are you trying to channel Giles?" Buffy asked, slightly annoyed.

"No time for Angel-loving, huh?" Willow sympathized, ignoring him.

Buffy bottom lip pulled out into a pout as she ran a finger around the rim of her soda. "No, and my Angel-loving levels are dipping low. Into the red even."

Xander pulled off the sunglasses with a roll of his eyes. Did she have to talk about the Ungrateful Dead_ all_ the time? "Ladies, some people are trying to enjoy a _real _movie." He pointed to the TV.

They gave him another look.

Buffy turned back to Willow, suddenly brightening. "So, he's meeting me here tonight."

Both giggled.

Willow leaned in. "Ooh, nice. Smoochies."

"No...no smoochies," Buffy disagreed with a shake of her head. "Like Xander said. It's not all fun and games. Patrolling is totally smooch-free." Her lips pulled up into a devilish smile. "However, 'after' patrolling...Smoochfest."

Xander turned the volume up as they giggled louder, but still stole looks at Buffy. Ah, Buffy. He really loved Buffy. Ever since she'd come to Sunnydale High, she was all he could think about. Well, there were others that vied for his affections in his mind, but he didn't think Amy Yip or Princess Leia would be showing up anytime soon.

"Oh, Buff, did you get the math homework? Ms. Barton was going to talk about Pythagorean Theorem. Easy stuff, but..."

Buffy frowned. "Uh, math? Am I supposed to go on Tuesdays?"

Willow gently admonished. "You mean like you've been doing the whole semester?"

"Like I said..." Buffy explained. "Giles had me in Slayer lockdown with vampy research. And you're not around." She pouted. "You know, when you get sick, you really need to think about others."

Willow smiled. "I'll remember that for next time."

There was a noise on the balcony, followed by a small rap on the bedroom's French doors. They all jumped, staring wide-eyed towards them. Buffy leapt up and reached for the knobs.

"Oooh, honey alert." Buffy peeked out before swinging open both doors. Angel stood there in the darkness. "Oooh, honey."

"Buffy." Angel stepped forward, just shy of the threshold, although Willow had already given him the invite some time ago.

Angel looked over Buffy's head. "Willow...Xander."

"Hi, Angel." Willow jumped up and stood behind Xander, who gave him a quick nod in response. He stuck his hands deep into his pockets, pressing his lips together in a tight smile.

Buffy touched the edge of a brown paper bag sticking out Angel's coat pocket. "Hey, what'cha got there? Prezzies for me?"

Angel smiled shyly. "Well actually, it's for Willow. I heard you were sick." He pulled out the bag, stepped inside and held it out to her.

Willow looked at both Xander and Buffy in surprise and stepped slowly towards Angel, taking the bag. Embarrassed, her cheeks became a soft blush of pink.

"It's 'Red Vines'," Angel explained, his voice quiet. "Buffy said you like those."

"Thank you, Angel." Willow blushed more, turning as red as the candy.

"Okay, taking the high road by not being jealous of boyfriend bearing gifts for my friend." Buffy held him by the lapels of his jacket. "I'll just chalk it up to your thoughtfulness." She smiled before pulling him into a kiss.

Xander felt his face grow hot also, but not for the same reason as Willow. Willow was his friend. _His._ How dare deadguy come in there with his long flowy coat, spikey hair and what girls would call 'smoldering good looks', kissing someone who should be his and giving his best friend presents? Bastard.

He could ask her not to go. How uncool would it be to tell her not to? But she never spent anytime with them anymore since Angel was around. Did the world have to end for them to get any quality Buffy time?

"Uh, we better go." Angel pulled away, noticing two pairs of eyes on them.

Buffy, seeming to realize that they were still in Willow's room, cleared her throat and agreed. "Yeah. Duty calls."

In his mind's eye, Xander was shoving Buffy aside and running a stake through the Angel's cold dead heart. The perfect ending to a perfect evening. Instead, he stepped up. "You sure you want to go now? Willow could have a relapse any minute." Yeah, he knew he was playing the 'friend abandonment' card. Sneaky, ugly and unfair. But witness him not care.

He felt a surge of joy as he saw Buffy hesitate. He gave Angel a quick smile. Joy died when he heard Willow behind him. "I feel fine, Xander."

"You don't know!" Xander whirled around. "You could be delirious right now."

Buffy walked around him to Willow. "Will, are you okay? I can stay."

"I'm fine." Willow placed the back of her hand to her own forehead. "Look, 98.6. Go and kick some demon's butt for me, okay?"

Buffy smiled, relieved. "Will do." She picked up her handbag and followed behind Angel. "I'll check on you tomorrow. See you guys later." The doors closed behind them with a soft click.

Xander stared at the doors.

"Uh, I guess you want to go home now."

Willow's words were laced with disappointment. "I mean, you know the end of these movies. Does he stay? Does he go? You know those hero types. Always with the 'wham bam, saved your life ma'am'."

Xander sighed. It was hard to admit that you were second best or, hell, maybe not even in the running. Hard when that special girl didn't see you the same way.

"So, if you want to go, I'll understand." Willow's voice floated in and out of his thoughts as he heard her put the candy on the desk. He heard the thump of something falling to the floor and felt it hit his foot.

"Sorry." Willow's feet padded across the floor towards him. He looked down and picked up his baseball, his tight, almost illegible handwriting faded blue across the top.

Xander turned around. She stood there, covering one green-socked foot with the toes of the other, holding out her hand. Jesse said she looked for it for an hour in buggy grass, taller than her. She went looking for it despite her fear of creepy crawlies, because she thought he was something he hadn't felt in a long time.

He gave the ball back to her. "I already know how the story ends."

She looked up. Her eyes widen. The pink-eye was getting better. "Oh?"

He smiled. "The hero stays."


End file.
